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"Rise and shine, Jack. I know how much you hate oversleeping." Corona reached the top of the stairs and found the door to their bedroom open. A guy with a camera mounted on his shoulder--a new guy, since Eddie had today off--stood in the hallway, aiming it into the room.

Someone inside the bedroom snickered, and Corona arched a brow ridge and bared her teeth. "Hey, what's going on?"

The guy with the camera twitched and whipped his head around toward her. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but didn't actually say anything.

"Okay, get ready!" Loud whisper, not Jack's voice.

Corona rushed over to the door. Her muzzle fell open at the sight that greeted her: Jack, still asleep, with Dale leaning over the bed and one of his dipshit friends on the other side, pants down, bare ass hovering in front of Jack's face.

What the hell? Before she could regain her composure enough to demand an explanation, Dale drew his right hand back, slapped Jack's face, and burst out laughing.

"Shit!" Jack's eyes snapped open and his arms flailed. "What the fuck?" He turned to the right and found the bare ass inches from his face. He screamed and lurched backward.

Dale's partner in crime pulled his pants up and ran for the door, laughing hysterically.

Jack released an enraged bellow and swung his fist at him.

Corona stared at Dale and his buddy as they skidded to a stop in front of her. Their laughter cut off abruptly and the color drained from their faces. The stench of beer wafting from their mouths almost staggered her.

What the hell did I just see? She shook her head slowly. Did that really happen?

"Mother_fuckers_!" Jack roared, scrambling out of bed and launching at the guys.

Both of them bolted in a blind panic and the camera guy backed away. Corona clamped her hands onto their shoulders as they tried to squeeze past her, and applied just enough pressure to leave long-lasting bruises.

"You're not going anywhere," she snarled over their screams of pain.

"It was just a joke!" Dale howled, dropping to his knees and trying to pry her hands loose.

Jack plowed into the other guy and Corona released her grip on him. Jack slammed him into the wall, lifted a knee into his crotch, and threw him to the floor.

Corona returned her attention to Dale and bared her fangs. "You think assaulting a sleeping, defenseless person is funny? Are you really that stupid?"

"Hey, take it easy, it was just a--"

Jack punched him in the face. "Don't you _ever_do anything like that _ever_again. Have I made myself clear?"

Dale threw his arms over his face. "Okay! Okay! Jesus!"

Corona let go of him. "Don't let me catch you or any of your friends in our bedroom again. If I ever find any of you in there, you'd be better off jumping out the window and taking your chances than letting me get my hands on you. Understood?"

He nodded. His face paled a bit more and his eyes looked wide enough to fall out of his skull.

"Good. Now, get the hell away from us."

He kept nodding spastically and bolted, leaving his cohort curled up on the floor.

Jack shook his head and rubbed his face. "Sons of bitches." He whirled abruptly and jabbed a finger at the camera guy. "And you--point that camera into our bedroom again and I'll shove it up your ass sideways."

The guy flinched and took a step back. "Okay, dude, relax."

Jack speared him with one last contemptuous glare before turning back to Corona. "I'll be downstairs as soon as I shower." He headed back into their bedroom.

"'Kay." She gave his ass a quick squeeze before he was out of reach. He laughed and blew a kiss at her before closing the door.

She glared at the guy on the floor, who had finally pushed himself upright and leaned against the wall, and turned back to the camera guy. She grabbed his camera, ripped it off his shoulder mount, held it in front of his face, and snapped it in half.

The guy flinched and jerked away from her.

"Next time it'll be your skull." She shook her head, dropped the shattered camera, and strode off to the staircase, hoping that Jack's rude awakening hadn't set the tone for the whole day.

Jack's phone rang. Corona stopped, sighed, and turned back to the bedroom. I hope it's not work-related. Especially if it's about all the mechs we shot up on the way out of the ARD building.

She returned to their room and opened the door, shooting the camera guy a look that made him throw up his hands and bolt down the stairs. She leaned against the doorway and watched Jack pick his phone up off the dresser.

"Hello?" His mouth dropped open slightly and his eyebrows raised. "Oh. Uh, hi, Mom."

Corona glanced at Dale's buddy, just now picking himself up and crawling away, groaning. She chuckled, crossed her arms over her chest, and smiled at Jack.

"Um, yeah, I'm doing okay. How're you and Dad? Ah, good." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry about that. I've just been--well, you know how it is, just hanging in there from day to day. No, I--" He ran his free hand through his hair and hung his head.

Holding in a giggle, Corona eased onto the bed, sat behind him, and put her arms and wings around him. "Hi, Jack's mom!"

He grinned. "That was Corona, Mom. She's...well, she's my--oh. How'd you know?"

Corrie raised a brow ridge. "Has she been watching the stream?"

He glanced at her and nodded. "Just found it a couple hours ago. They've been leaving messages on my phone, but it was turned off until a minute ago." He returned his attention to the phone. "So you saw what happened with Inbred Jed and his brother-cousin?" He laughed and turned back to Corona for a moment. "She said I should've beat the fucking shit out of both of those guys."

Corona giggled. "She's right!"

"I will if they do it again, Mom. So, you know about me and Corona? Oh. And Taura, too?" He glanced at Corrie again. "They've been downloading the videos and catching up on what they missed."

"Ah. That means they've seen almost as much of me as you have."

Jack listened for a moment. "Uh, yeah." Another quick look at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "No, they've seen it all; I've just done more with it." Back to the phone. "Well, she doesn't like wearing clothes. Not much I could do about that even if I wanted to."

Corona grinned and nuzzled his cheek. "From what I've seen on the show's message boards, a considerable portion of the audience definitely has no problem with it."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, Mom, a few people have said the same thing. Others have objected more strongly, too. Well, they're the reason she started doing it more. She heard some of the complaints after the first time she appeared naked on-camera, so she kept it up just to annoy them." He shrugged. "She's not normally a spiteful person, but I think she picked it up from me."

Corona giggled and licked his cheek.

Jack smiled. After listening silently for a few seconds, he nodded. "Yeah. I love her." His face turned red. "Yeah, Taura, too. Yeah, I know it's weird. I'm more aware of the weirdness than anyone. But lately, weird has become the new normal for me. I mean, you saw what just happened." He sighed. "It took Taura almost dying and then nearly losing her mind for me to realize it, but I love her as much as Corrie."

Corona nodded, gave him a thumbs-up, and cuddled him again. He smiled and leaned back against her chest.

"Well, it's a long story. Yeah, she was in heat--still is, but her psychological needs have been, um, taken care of." He blushed again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wasn't sure how you'd react to me and Corrie, much less me and Corrie and Taura. Yeah, I know, this was a hell of a way to find out."

Corrie grinned and rested her muzzle on his shoulder.

"Look, Mom, breakfast will be ready soon, so.... Yeah, I'll tell you all about it as soon as I can. I promise. Well, after breakfast, we have to go to work, but tonight I'll call you and explain the whole thing. Yeah, I promise. I love you, too. Okay, bye." He ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed.

"So," Corona said with a chuckle, "you didn't tell your parents about us?"

"I hadn't talked to them for almost a year. Kept planning to, but things always came up."

"Well, I'm sure your next conversation with them will be interesting."

"Oh, definitely." He gave her a kiss, stood, and walked over to his dresser. "Interesting and long."

#

"You were awfully quiet last night."

"Hmm?" Shakira flicked a distracted glance at Otto as she waited for the traffic light to turn green.

"When we went for that walk last night, you didn't say much. And you're still kinda quiet."

"Sorry. Got a lot on my mind." She continued staring straight ahead. When the traffic light turned green, she eased her Humvee forward.

Uh-oh. "The conversation we had before we left bothered you that much?"

She sighed. "It was a bit much, even compared to a typical conversation with you."

"Sorry." He stared out at the traffic ahead and shrugged. "I just found those drawings and thought they were funny, and decided to comment on them. Y'know, the same kind of thing we do on our podcasts."

"Well, some of the drawings you told me about...I don't think my skin will ever stop crawling." She shook her head, slowed, and made a right turn. "Not only is that kind of thing sick and twisted, the people who drew them are using our likenesses without permission. And I'm gonna nail 'em for it."

"Okay, I can understand that. Hope they don't slip out of it by saying it's for satirical purposes."

"Oh, great. You know, that'd be just my luck." The truck in front of them moved into the left lane and Shakira accelerated. She shook her head slowly. "Finding out that people are discussing your sex life on message boards and drawing porny pictures of you--it doesn't bother you at all?"

"Most of it doesn't. Maybe it just means I'm getting inside people's heads." He smirked. "And like I said last night, I do bring a lot of it on myself based on the things I talk about all the time. But really, there are so many sick and twisted people out there, a few message-board comments or drawings aren't gonna get under my skin. Like the case Kim's mother is working on, a guy who can apparently mind-rape people into humping in front of him while he stands there and whacks off. Or the guys who sometimes get caught doin' the five-knuckle shuffle in department store restrooms. Hell, the last time I used a public restroom, I found a cucumber on the floor. Make of that what you will."

"A...cucumber?" Shakira shook her head. "No, never mind, I don't want that image in my head."

"Anyway, on top of all this, there's any number of people who end up on the news because they did something disgusting in public. Not to mention the customers Jack used to deliver to--we've both seen our share of them. Too many people are just inherently fucked-up."

"Well, yeah, I guess. There was this thing on the news a few months ago about a couple who got caught doin' it in a Dumpster."

Otto raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. You can't make something like that up. The icing on the cake, by the way, was that a cop was the one who caught them. He heard weird grunting and thumping sounds coming from the Dumpster, and thought it was a wounded animal. Imagine the look on his face when he lifted the lid."

"Eww. A Dumpster. How could anybody even...." He twisted his face up and shuddered. "In garbage juice!"

Shakira clamped a hand over her mouth and grunted something that sounded like, "Hurrrk!"

"Anyway, that's exactly what I'm talking about--there's a lot of fuckedupness out there. You just need to get some perspective."

"Well, yeah, but the stuff you were commenting on last night is gonna make people think we really are humping it out--and I could be arrested just on suspicion. At best, people will start to think I have a Sh?tar? complex." She sighed. "In fact, just hanging out with you might be enough for someone to dump a whole lot of trouble on my doorstep."

"Well, if it bothers you that much--"

"Why keep hanging around you? I ask myself the same thing all the time." She shrugged. "I don't know, you're a fun guy to spend time with. But now that we've got who knows how many people watching us while we're in that house, we should be more careful."

"Okay, I'll try to control myself." He chuckled. "Not easy, what with the hormones raging and being around such a beautiful woman."

She arched an eyebrow and he held his hands up.

"I'm just sayin'." He sighed and rubbed his right hand over the bald portion of his head, found a piece of pillow lint stuck to the slight stubble, and brushed it off. Time to shave again. "I don't know what got into me last night. Lack of sleep eroding my impulse control, maybe."

"Still having those nightmares?"

Ugh. Not that I want to talk about it, but... "Yeah. They're getting worse. Weirder and scarier."

She gave him a concerned look, faced forward again, and slowed. "Feel like talking about it?"

"I only remember pieces of 'em. Most of it is flashes of me running from something or being attacked by something. The worst thing about it is that it always feels like I'm remembering something that actually happened. But it couldn't be real." He let a quick breath out and shrugged. "Anyway, I can get by on four or five hours of sleep each night, but it has to be in solid blocks. Waking up every half hour must be making me a little doofy. But like I said, I'll try to control myself."

"I'd appreciate that."

He smiled. A moment later, he said, "That line about the microwaved peanut butter was pretty funny, though, right?"

She snorted. "Okay, I'll give you that. Even though it put an image in my head that will haunt me for the rest of my life."

He grinned. "Well, I'm sure Dale has humped worse things."

"Oh, Jesus." Shakira shook her head.

"Maybe that's why we found his truck sitting on the lawn this morning. Maybe the constant burning sensations distracted him when he was trying to park."

She laughed. "I haven't seen him with anyone that hideous."

"Okay, maybe I'm just taking cheap shots at him because he insulted you last night."

"Well, I do appreciate your standing up for me. That was really sweet. In your own, warped way." She grinned.

"Glad to be of service." He grinned right back. Now that's more like it.

She flipped on the left turn signal and waited for a break in the traffic. A moment later, she turned the corner and groaned. "Oh, crap."

Otto glanced at her and looked straight ahead. One of their favorite coffee houses was on the next corner.

And so were three large vans with media logos on their sides, parked across the street from the coffee place.

"Marvelous. Someone must've followed us from the house recently."

"Yeah." Shakira thumped her hand on the steering wheel. "It's not enough to be on a goddamned reality show every moment we're home, but now they track us down when we're trying to have our pre-breakfast coffee."

"They could be there for something else."

"I'm not taking any chances." She made a right turn and accelerated. "I hope none of 'em spotted us."

"Well, we're in a fifty-year-old Humvee that's painted hot pink. I don't see how that could stand out at all."

"Ha fuckin' ha." She rolled her eyes. "Okay, change of plan. There's a convenience store a few blocks away; we'll run by there and see if they've got any Viso in. I ran out a couple days ago, anyway, and I need my fix."

"Sounds good. Hope they have it in bottles. The canned ones are nasty."

She drove to the store, glancing into the rearview mirrors every few seconds, and parked in the lot beside it. She got out, looked around, and set off for the front door at a brisk pace. Otto jogged past her and opened the door for her, and both headed for the cooler in the back.

"Yes! There it is!" Otto opened the cooler and grabbed a case of the Vigor flavor.

Shakira reached in for a case of the Razza. "I shouldn't have let you talk me into trying this stuff. Now I'm addicted."

"There are worse things to be addicted to." Otto grinned and headed for the counter. Then he changed direction abruptly. "Oops, almost forgot another necessity." He walked to the pharmacy section, grabbed a pack of condoms, and returned to the counter.

Shakira arched an eyebrow and he shrugged.

"Just in case."

"That's not the kind of ride I offered you, kid." Shakira chuckled and shook her head.

"Well, one never knows." He grinned and placed the rubbers and the Viso on the counter. "Even if my one true love never reciprocates, there's always the possibility that I might find another lovely lady to share a little passion with every now and then."

The clerk scanned both items. The Viso produced a shrill beep, but the condom pack didn't. The clerk tried it again and got the same result. He frowned and smirked at the same time. "Huh. For _some_reason, this isn't scanning."

Otto watched him try a third time, and raised an eyebrow. That's because you're holding your finger over part of the barcode, dipshit.

"I think I'm gonna have to page somebody for a price check." Grinning, the clerk picked up the phone hanging beside the register and reached out to the page button.

"Really?" Otto sighed and shook his head. "You're really gonna pull that one? There are still people who think that just because I'm thirteen, I'm embarrassed to be seen buying rubbers? Really?"

The clerk's smug grin faded.

"Yes, I'm buying condoms. So what?" Otto took his wallet out and opened it, and raised his voice to be sure all the customers nearby could hear him. "And y'know what? Even if I don't actually have sex any time soon, I can always masturbate."

The clerk's jaw dropped and Shakira released a sound like a spit-take mutating into a burst of laughter. She gasped and turned away quickly.

"Eww! Damn it!"

Otto grinned and pulled his debit card from his wallet. "Okay, give me the total so we can both move on with our lives."

"Um," Shakira muttered, "Otto, would you grab a box of tissues, please? Or napkins or paper towels or whatever?"

"Uh, sure." Otto frowned, shrugged, and glanced at the clerk. "Hold on a second." He hurried off, returned with a box of tissues, and handed it to her.

"Thanks." She took the box without turning to face him, and waved it at the clerk. "I'll pay for these. I just need one right away."

"Are you okay?" Otto moved closer to her, holding his hand out. "You don't have, like, a nosebleed or anything, I hope?"

"No, nothing like that." She opened the box, yanked a tissue out, and grumbled. "When you made me laugh, I..." She lowered her voice to a mumble. "I blew a huge snot rocket onto my shirt."

_Oh. Oops._Otto struggled to hold in a laugh. "Sorry." He returned to the counter and slid his debit card through the reader.

The door opened and a guy in a dark green trenchcoat walked past the corner of Otto's eye. Otto tapped his PIN into the console and ignored the new arrival until he realized the guy had stopped a few feet away. He looked up just as the man flipped his coat open and grinned at Shakira.

Other than the coat, socks, and shoes, the bastard didn't have a single piece of clothing on.

Shakira turned, dropped her jaw and let out a sharp squeak.

Otto looked at her, shook his head, and turned back to the flasher. _Shit. He's still there._He looked back at Shakira. "Did that really just happen? Are you seeing this, too?"

"Unfortunately." She turned away, took her glasses off, and rubbed her hand wearily over her face. "What the hell? When did I become a pervert magnet?"

Otto scowled at the flasher. "Seriously, dude? Seriously?"

The flasher's grin faltered as he realized he wasn't going to get the reaction he wanted.

Otto rolled his eyes and smirked. "Mine's bigger."

The guy stared at him with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

Otto shrugged, unzipped his pants, and hauled his wang out. "See?"

Shakira slumped forward slightly, but kept her back toward him and the flasher. "Oh, no," she muttered, "you didn't." She shook her head, put her glasses back on, and froze, staring at one of the end caps.

Otto glanced in the direction she was staring, and found a rack of sunglasses--with a mirror above them.

Uh-oh. He put it away, plucked his receipt from the register, and turned back to the flasher. "Get lost, Pee-Wee." He stepped aside and waved a hand at Shakira. "Okay, your turn."

She squeezed her eyes shut and shuddered. "Oh, holy hell! I--just--_bad!_Wrong! That was _so_wrong!"

"I know." Otto glared at the flasher as he blushed, turned, and ran out the door. "There's no un-seeing that."

"No shit. And I got a double dose of it." She trudged over to the counter and plunked the tissues and case of Viso down. "There's something wrong with you, kid."

"Okay, I'll concede that point." He shrugged and waited for her to pay for her Viso and tissues.

"I feel an almost uncontrollable urge to gouge my eyes out." She shuddered, took the receipt, and headed for the door. "But it's already too late."

"Sorry. I didn't intend for you to see it."

She twitched again and headed for her Humvee. "I need to find a way to expunge that from my memory."

"Oh, come on, it couldn't have been that bad!"

In the corner of his eye, a hand reached out and clamped onto Shakira's shoulder.

"Into the alley," an unfamiliar voice hissed. "Now!"

Before Otto could turn his head, Shakira spun and rammed her left elbow into something, forcing a startled grunt from the voice's owner.

What...? Otto caught a glimpse of a guy in a black hoodie and sunglasses snapping his head back and starting to fall over. Blood trickled from his nose.

A knife slipped from his right hand and clinked onto the sidewalk.

Shakira dropped the Viso and drove her right fist into the guy's chin, channeling the weight of her entire body into the blow, and the guy toppled over like a felled tree.

...the hell? Otto stared at him, only barely able to comprehend what had just happened.

Shakira stared at the guy for several seconds before looking at the knife and backing away, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes opened wider and her whole body shook.

"Oh, shit! I can't believe I just...that guy had a knife! I--I--I gotta sit down." She staggered over to her Humvee, opened the door, and half sat, half collapsed into the seat. She fumbled in her pocket, pulled her phone out, and almost dropped it. "Gotta...gotta call the cops," she muttered.

Otto turned back to the guy she'd dropped, and found him still sprawled face-down. Passersby stopped nearby, flicking their eyes back and forth between him and Shakira.

"Whoa. You knocked him the hell out." Otto grinned at her. "That was awesome! Where'd you learn to fight like that?"

"Growing up with two older brothers." She tried to dial the police and the phone slipped from her trembling fingers. "Had to learn how to fight so they couldn't keep pinning me down and beating the piss out of me."

Otto glanced at the knife guy, turned back to Shakira, and grinned. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. You've just become, like, a million times sexier!"

She grimaced as she picked up her phone and tried to dial again. "Ugh. I should've let the fucker mug me."

#

"Hey, Lola, I'll be right there." Lefty stepped out from behind one of the car-size, quadruped robots who acted as support units for the Foundation. The chunky, equine anthro closed a panel on the spider-like robot's backside, secured its bolts with a cordless screwdriver, and patted his left-rear leg. "You're all set, Jamie."

"Thanks!" The robot waited for her to walk away, turned and waved at the new arrivals. "Lola, Enrique, Hiro--hi!"

"Hi, yourself." Ramirez smiled and started off across the repair shop. "How you liking the new digs, Lefty?"

"Love it. Wish it hadn't taken the old shop getting blown up to get this place, but I've got no complaints otherwise." She placed the screwdriver in a toolbox resting on one of the workbenches lining the wall. "Guess you're here for your package. It's over there." She waved her prosthetic arm, motioning for them to follow her, and headed for a desk in the far corner.

Ramirez looked around slowly and took a deep breath. Gasoline, grease, cleaning agents, paint, and the smell of old air from tires...she closed her eyes and for a moment she was a little kid again, wandering around her dad's garage while he worked on his car.

Lefty reached under her desk and picked up a box. She placed it on the desk and smiled. "I think you'll like it."

Ramirez opened it and stared at its contents. Resting in a slab of packing foam was what appeared to be a sawed-off shotgun minus the pump, and beside it, a holster. She picked it up and arched an eyebrow.

"What in the hell's this?"

"Machiko said you wanted the biggest gun I could find, so there it is." Lefty chuckled, reached under her desk, and pulled out another box. "Here's some ammo."

Ramirez took a closer look at the barrel. "Jesus. That looks about twenty millimeters."

"Exactly twenty." Lefty opened the ammo box, revealing a dozen magazines. "It can use smaller sabot rounds, too, since the full twenty mil would be a bit much under most circumstances."

"Just a bit, yeah." She hefted it and grinned. "Not front-heavy at all; balanced perfectly. Must have a hell of a kick, though."

"Yeah, but it's got a row of vents along the top; uses the gases from each shot to push the barrel down and counteract the recoil."

"Nice." Ramirez picked up the holster. "Well, this is...interesting."

"That goes on your hip. Since the long barrel would make drawing it kinda problematic, this one holds the gun in with a clip. See that little lever at the top? Hit that with your thumb and the gun sort of pops out into your hand. And when you holster it, it just clicks into place."

"Sweet." Ramirez put the holster on, secured it, and clipped the gun into it. "Guess that's why Machiko wanted me to get an open-carry permit."

"Yeah, there's no concealing this baby."

Ramirez inserted the magazines into the clips on the holster's belt, turned to Hiro and Enrique, placed her hands on her hips and assumed a dramatic pose. "How do I look?"

"Badass!" Jamie said.

Hiro looked her over slowly and his yellow eyes glowed brighter. Even though his beak wasn't flexible, he somehow managed to look like he was smiling.

"You're beautiful," he said softly.

She smiled, but couldn't shake off a sudden urge to fidget. The whole situation between him and her--

Just don't think about it. She cleared her throat and glanced down at the gun.

"I should be wearing leather and chains, like some sort of Mad Max reject."

"Yeah," Enrique said. "Only in your case, it'd be Mad Mex."

She snorted. "Well, now I know what I'm doing for Halloween." She closed the case holding the rest of the magazines. "I should head over to the firing range and get a feel for this."

Her phone rang.

"Or not." She dug it out of her pocket, found Machiko's number on the screen, and accepted the call. "Hey, boss, what's up?"

"Got a quick job for you. Someone tried to mug Shakira outside a convenience store--don't worry, she's okay. In fact, she clobbered the guy as soon as he laid a hand on her. Knocked him out cold. She tried to call the police, but she's been on hold for nearly half an hour, so I need you to run by and haul the guy in."

"I'll get right on it. Hope he doesn't run off before we get there."

"That's unlikely. According to Otto, the mugger is still unconscious."

"Nice. Shakira must've popped him a good one."

"So it would appear. Otto was, shall we say, quite impressed."

Oh, boy. From what she knew of the kid, he was probably ready to burst out of his pants by now. "Okay, we're on our way."

"Good. Bring him to HQ; we can store him in one of our cells until the cops are ready to pick him up. See you soon."

"Roger that." Ramirez nodded over her shoulders "Got a quick pickup to make, guys. Kind of a milk run, but at least we'll actually be able to do this one."

#

Corona took a seat at the conference table, hoping that Jack wouldn't let his anger at Shadow overwhelm him again.

Jack and Taura entered the room, followed by a hulking draconid with purple skin and black hair that reached past her waist.

"Still don't believe me, eh?" she said. "Even when the DNA test confirmed it?"

"Not really, no." Jack walked over to the seat beside Corona. "For all I know, the test results were faked. And that whole 'we're from the future' thing is a bunch of shit. But even without that, if someone overheard you referring to us as your parents, it'd be a little awkward, don't you think? So if you don't mind, just call us by name."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've had to do that." Boiler chuckled at their expressions. "Long story." She shrugged. "Okay, fine, I can see your point of view on this--Jack."

"Much better." He sat and slipped his hand into Corona's.

Taura took the seat on his left and held his other hand.

Corona watched Boiler for a moment before deciding to ponder the situation later. Boiler had wanted to meet with them and explain everything, but so far there hadn't been a day when all four of them were free at the same time.

Oh, well. We'll get this sorted out eventually. She shifted her weight, trying to move her tail into a less uncomfortable position, and waited for Machiko and their client to arrive.

Moments later, their boss strode into the briefing room with Arthur Winslow close behind her. Corona kept an eye on the door for a moment, but Shadow didn't appear, and Corona released a quick sigh of relief. As sorry as she felt for the poor girl, it would be a long time before Jack got over the stunt she'd pulled yesterday. The last thing any of them needed was for him to be distracted by his own temper.

"Let's get started." Machiko sat at the end of the table, leaned forward, and laced her talons together. "Mr. Winslow?"

He sat across from Corona and fidgeted.

Corona waited a few more seconds and raised a brow ridge. "What's this all about? Why did we have to fight our way through an army of your company's own mechs to get you out of there?"

"It's, uh, it's about a project we were working on. And by 'we,' I mean a rather large team of cyberneticists and software engineers. I was actually a very small part of it; all I did was write a portion of the software. The mechs were trying to prevent me from leaving with the evidence."

"Software for what?" Jack kept his solid obsidian eyes aimed at Winslow.

Winslow stammered and slumped forward slightly. "For...for the, uh...the project."

"I already don't like where this is going," Taura muttered. "What project?"

"Ah. Well." Winslow cleared his throat. "It's something we were working on for possible military use, but the potential applications go far beyond that."

"Well, hooray." Jack's lip curled. "Get to the goddamned point, already."

"Okay, okay.." Winslow glanced around and fiddled with his glasses. "Project Phoenix. It's...well, it's a process that revives the dead."

Taura's mouth fell open. "I can already see the medical applications for that. It'd be worth hundreds of billions to--"

"No, not like that. It can bring corpses back to life, but only to a certain point."

"What the hell does that mean?" Jack snapped.

"Basic bodily functions are restarted, cybernetic systems are implanted and software installed. Other modifications are made where necessary." Winslow tugged on his collar. "Only certain memories remain accessible, such as police or combat training, if it's still intact. Or whatever other mission-specific experience he or she has."

Corona growled and held her hand over the end of her muzzle. Her tail lashed around and her red eyes glowed brighter. "I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"It wasn't my idea!"

"But you were a part of it," Taura said. "Why would anyone...?"

"Military applications," Jack grumbled. "And who knows what else."

Taura grimaced and rubbed a hand over her face. "This would let you 'recycle' soldiers who are killed in action. They could be put back together, enhanced with cybernetic components, programmed for new missions, and sent back into battle. Or used for assassinations or sabotage. They'd be difficult to stop and using them for the most dangerous missions would keep your 'more important' operatives safe."

"That was the idea, yeah." Winslow couldn't meet her gaze.

Corona snarled. "So, creating Taura and me and all the others--that wasn't good enough, eh?"

"Well, you may have noticed that creating chimeras for military use didn't work out too well. Public outcry over the creation of a slave race, and all that."

"And what do you think would've happened once the public learned about the use of the dead for the same purpose?"

"Not only that," Jack added, "but how exactly were you planning to get your hands on suitable corpses? Were you gonna settle for raiding morgues all over the city for the ones you wanted, or were you gonna pick out certain 'candidates' and arrange accidents for them, or some shit like that?"

Winslow flinched as if he'd been slapped. Taura leaned back abruptly and clenched her fist. She glared at him and gnashed her teeth. Several seconds passed before she was able to speak.

"That was the plan, wasn't it?"

"I wasn't in on the planning." He kept his eyes focused on the table. "But...well, I assume that would be more efficient than waiting for the right people to die."

"You're a real piece of shit, Winslow." Jack shook his head and sneered. "You and everyone else on that project."

"Hey, wait a minute! We were only doing our jobs."

Corona snorted. "I'm sure the geneticists who created me and Taura said the same thing."

Jack put his arm around her. "Well, at least we have a chance to stop it. Once we get the evidence to--"

"Uh, yeah," Winslow mumbled. "About that..."

Jack leaned forward and spiked him with another glare. "What?"

"I had the evidence. I copied it from the servers and was carrying it with me when Shadow got me out of there. But..."

"What? Did you drop the external drive into a gutter or something?"

"The drive was booby-trapped." Winslow slumped forward and propped his head on his palm. "The company had a security feature hard-wired into it. When I climbed through that window--when the drive was removed from the building, it was wiped automatically."

Jack stared at him and finally blurted a flat, "What."

"I've already had Mickey working on it," Machiko said. "The drive is blank. It's been wiped clean. Whatever files were on it, they're irretrievable." She arched a brow ridge and met Jack's gaze. "Which means you three will have to go back into the ARD building, extract the files we need, and find a way to get them out of the building without losing them like Winslow did."

Jack stared back at her. "What."

"You heard me." Before he could reply, she turned to smirk at Boiler. "Care to back them up?"

"I've got nothing else planned for today." Boiler smirked right back. "I'll do what I can to keep the company security off their backs."

"Wait a minute." Jack shook his head. "We had to jump off the fuckin' roof to get out of that place, and now you want us to go back?"

"Well," Corona said, "there's something that'll work in our favor--they'd never expect us to hit 'em again the very next day."

"Yeah--because it'd be fuckin' stupid."

"Don't worry, Jack." Machiko aimed one of her cold smiles at him. "I'll be there, too, with my sniper rifle. You probably won't see me, but you'll know I'm there."

Jack grumbled and slouched.

"One thing that has me concerned," Taura said, "is the presence of innocent bystanders. If we go in during business hours, many of the people there will be doing jobs that have nothing to do with this project--answering phones, accounting, shuffling paperwork, troubleshooting technical problems."

"That's why you'll be going in tonight, after most of the employees have gone home. You'll still need to watch out for a few people working late, but most of the people you encounter will be security." She stood and crossed her arms over her chest. "I suggest you stop by Lefty's shop and pick up the gear you'll need. She's got some new equipment for you."

"Oh." Taura's ears pricked up. "That's not playing fair; you know I'm a total mark for new gadgets."

Machiko grinned. "After you pick up what you need, I suggest you study the building's layout, determine the best point of entry, and plan your escape. You may have to improvise once things get rolling, so don't set anything in stone, but at least have an idea of what you'll need to do at each step." She turned to Winslow. "I assume the files are in the main server in the basement?"

"Right. Since they know I copied the files from the computer in my office, you can bet they've tightened their grip by now. There won't be any outside access. You'll have to insert a media card or plug an external drive directly into the server."

"Oh, that's just marvelous," Jack muttered. "Remember what happened the last time we had to do that?"

"Yeah, that's how we ended up working for Machiko." Corona nudged his shoulder. "Come on, it could be worse."

"Yeah--and sooner or later, it will be."

She snorted, stood, grasped his arm and hauled him off his chair. "Okay, that does it. We've got a few hours before the op starts, so let's pick up our gear and then head somewhere private. Looks like Taura and I are gonna have to screw that pessimism right out of you."

"Oh." Boiler grimaced and clamped her hands over her ears. "Oh. Oh, that's nasty." She started to say something else, but glanced at Winslow and cut herself off. She shook her head and waved her hand. "Anyway, guess I better get ready, too."

"Okay, then. If there are no questions?" Machiko made eye contact with everyone and nodded. "That's all for now."

"Great." Jack sighed and headed for the door. "Let's go get ready to be shot at again."